


Darkest Conflictions

by PockyKiss



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Gay Character, Coming Out, Confused about sexuaity, Draco Malfoy Gay, Gay Male Character, M/M, Multi, POV Draco Malfoy, Sexual Confusion, Sexual Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 03:10:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2372372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PockyKiss/pseuds/PockyKiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy's life is wrapped in confusion.</p><p>The Summer Holidays from Hogwarts are supposed to be a time of relaxation and freedom, but for Draco, he has found himself dealing with ridiculous expectations. He is forced to accept a mission from the Dark Lord, a mission he knows he's been set up to fail and the pressure is literally tearing his already fragile family apart. His Mother won't speak to him, his Father is locked away in Azkaban and now his own alley seems to be his childhood friend, Daniel, who may or may not have ulterior reasons for returning back to England.</p><p>But through all this turmoil comes his own personal Hell. He's not sure when it happened or even <i>how</i>, but Draco can no longer deny his feelings for Daniel, a realisation that almost destroys him completely. He knows what he is feeling is wrong, sickening, <i>disgusting</i>, but still he has no control over it. Hogwarts becomes both his sanctuary and living Hell as it seems the Sixth year will be make or break for Draco...</p><p>... Because if the Dark Lord doesn't kill him for failing his mission, then his dirty secret will surely be the death of him in the long run.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkest Conflictions

**Author's Note:**

> This will take place during the Holidays between the fifth and sixth years and will briefly cross over into the sixth year. It's an entry to the one year anniversary competition at [King For A Day Graphic Shop](http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/547773/21/king-for-a-day-graphic-shop-not-accepting-requests-contest-chap-2-apply-graphic-graphics-poster-request-graphicshop) over at AsianFanFics. I'm not sure the direction of this just yet and it might just turn into a bit of drabble, but hopefully it will lead into a full fic. Who knows ^^
> 
> I may slip out of canon & also not follow the storyline properly, but I will try my bes to keep it as realistic (to HP) as I can.

**Within.**

 

My skin on my arm was burning, itching, _crawling_ …

“You should be honoured, Narcissa.” Ballatrix sniffed. “If _I_ had a son, I’d be overwhelmed with joy.”

My Mother didn’t answer, her pale stricken face turned towards the mantelpiece over the fire, her eyes on the Malfoy family portrait that hung their proudly. I stared up with her, taking in our matching proud expressions and the haughty way my Father smirked, his hand laying possessively on both our shoulders, always exerting his dominance. _There is nothing haughty about my Father now_ , I thought bitterly, not when he was rotting away in Azkaban a disgraced man.

“And _you_ , Draco.” I turned my head to face Bellatrix calmly. “You should be over the moon! To think he would trust such an important, invaluable mission to a child like you.” She pursed her lips. “Perhaps it will be enough to lesson the shame your Father has brought upon this family.”

“Enough.” Mother spoke, her voice quiet. “I won’t hear of this anymore.”

“Ignoring it won’t make it go away, Narcissa dear.” Bellatrix crooned. “The best thing to do is to plan, prepare, use this time to-“

“I said _enough_!” The room fell silent as his Mother’s voice echoed around the room. “Leave. Now.”

“You idiot.” Bellatrix hissed as she stalked towards the fireplace. “I was about to offer him my help. But you’re on your own, Draco. You can thank your _Mother_ for that!”

I turned away as she vanishes into the fireplace in a flash of green light. Once she is gone, the room remains silent and I peek over at Mother, only to find her staring at the portrait. Her expression is one of forlorn, as though she is looking upon faces of those departed from this world and though I am standing before her, alive and for the most part, well, I can’t help but think that the innocent boy in that painting really is dead.

I leave, and she doesn’t try stopping me. She doesn’t even look up. The mansion is silent as I walk through the halls, the only sound coming from the old grandfather clock by the front door. I run up the stairs and to my bedroom, where I lock the door behind me and sat stiffly at the edge of my bed, my eyes scanning my room before I lower them to my lap.

With fingers that tremble, I pull up the long sleeve of my jumper and stare down at my arm, at the Dark Mark displayed proudly on my flesh, a symbol of how far I had succumbed. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, it wasn’t supposed to _happen_. Father was the Death Eater, the one who took the risks and stood by the Dark Lord whilst Mother and I reaped the benefits. I was never supposed to join the ranks.

But I wasn’t given the choice.

When faced with choice of becoming a Death Eater in Father’s absence or watching my Mother be slaughtered, I suppose the decision becomes less like a choice and more like a force of hand. He knew when he presented me those options what I would choose, what I would do for my family. Though he lacked it himself, the Dark Lord knew enough about bonds to know how I would answer; how anyone would answer to keep their loved ones alive.

Rolling my sleeve back down in disgust I threw myself down on my bed and reached for my quill and scroll. The letter was quickly penned and sent on its way via owl, my mind slightly at ease once I saw it vanish in the distance from my window where I knew it headed towards Diagon Alley. There was nothing I could do about my circumstance, but that didn’t mean I had to roll over and cry about it. The only way to return our families favour was to complete my mission and right now… It was all I could focus on.

  

* * *

 

 

“What made you want new robes, Draco?” Mother asked as I left Madam Malkin’s that next day, sour faced after my spat with _Potter_.

“My others were becoming too short.” I mumbled, my hand squeezing around the handle of the bag containing my new robes.

I couldn’t tell her the truth, couldn't even admit aloud that the thought of wearing my old uniform made me feel sick. Although they still fit me physically, I knew I would never be able to fit into the shoes of the boy who wore them just weeks ago. I was no longer that boy. I’d never be him again.

“You know, Draco…” Mother began, her voice low and hesitant. “If you feel that you cannot… If you don’t think you can… We can always go away somewhere. We can always-“

“Will you just give it a rest, Mother?” I snapped, cutting her off. “Do you really have such little faith in me?”

“Of course not!” She sighed. “I know you can do anything you set your mind too, and that’s what worries me.”

I stormed ahead and didn’t answer. Outwardly I was the vision of confidence, but inwardly I was a mess. I wasn’t my Father and though he had always raised me to be sure, to be powerful and proud of my heritage… I’d never felt so disconnected to him than I did at this moment.

But as we approached Borgin and Burkes I put on my game face and swallowed my reservations.

I may not be the man my Father was, but I was no coward, either. I had a mission to fulfil, and I’d be damned if I put my family to shame. 

 

* * *

 

 

“You’re so brave, Draco.” Daniel observed. “I don’t think I could have faced the Dark Lord as you did.”

I hum in response, my eyes focused on polishing my broom.

Daniel was a Pureblood, the son of a Death Eater who had been with my Father before I had been born, partnered together under the rule of the Dark Lord. Daniel and I had grown up as friends from a young age, though I had not seen much of him over the last few years. Whilst I had been sent to Hogwarts at twelve, Daniel had been sent to Durmstrang Institute and I had seen little of him after he had left for Norway. The last time I had seen him had been the summer after my first year at Hogwarts, and though we had spent time together, comparing the two Magical schools and slandering Potter, Daniel hadn’t returned back home to England since.

I was quite surprised about how different he looked.

The small, ruddy boy from my childhood had become a tall, proud young man who had filled out considerably. He still had the same, round purple / black eyes that were usually slanted in boredom, his hair still the same straight, night-black though he now styled it much alike his Father’s business-like style. Light coloured skin had tanned slightly and he had grown into his prominent chin leaving him with a strong jaw that reminded me of a fighters. We were alike in our family situations, Daniel and I, so much so that I often considered him a brother, an extended family member. 

“I had no reason to fear him.” I shrugged indifferently. “He needed _me_ , after all. He understood that only _I_ could complete his sacred mission.”

“I wish Father would let me join.” Daniel sighed. “His says I must complete my schooling first before I can even consider it. Say, Draco…” He shuffled towards me, his eyes filed with a strange sparkle. “Would you mind showing me your Mark again?”

I lifted up my sleeve and presented it to him proudly, a smirk on my lips in response to the awe in his gaze. He hesitated a moment before his hand lifted and I watched carefully as his fingers grazed my mark, sending a strange jolt through my veins. I pulled away quickly and frowned down at his fingers suspiciously.

“Sorry.” Daniel smirked sheepishly. “I’ve just always wanted to touch one. Father won’t even let me look at his.”

“It’s fine.” I murmured, shaking off the strange tingling feeling that had remained after his touch

“So, you want a match?” He winked as he lifted up his broom and my heart rate spiked slightly.  “I might be a little rusty, but I’m sure I can still kick your ass.”

“Oh yeah?” I picked up my own broom and gave him a smirk. “I’d like to see you try, _Danny-boy_.”

We played aggressively, each of us trying to out-do the other and be the best player. Whilst it was true I had more experience than Danny in Quidditch (he didn’t play for a team at Durmstrang), it was also clear that he had more brute strength than I did. I’d never been knocked from my broom so many times.

“Why don’t we call it a draw?” He laughed after the tenth time I was tossed from my room. “I don’t want to see you getting permanently damaged before you can complete your mission.”

“Don’t be absurd.” I huffed, picking myself up from the ground. “You couldn’t hurt me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” I lifted my chin confidently. “In fact, if it came down to it, I’m pretty sure I could knock you down a peg.”

Daniel climbed off his broom and stood before me, a challenge obvious in his stance. I only had that for a warning as I suddenly found him flying at me, where I barely managed to turn slightly in his hold and save myself from being crushed between him and the ground. Instead we both landed on our sides, the wind knocked out of me momentarily before I kicked into action. Bringing my knee up I rammed it between us and kicked out, pushing him further away from me.

Scrambling to my knees I pounced, my fist connecting with his jaw before he could fully recover his balance. But when he did, I lost my upper hand. He grappled me to the ground, his fist striking me in the eye solidly as his other hand held me down. I thrashed and managed to knock him aside, but he quickly found his balance and hit me again, this time in the chest.

Now I definitely was winded.  

He chuckled lowly and hit me again in the face, though this time his punch wasn’t as hard.

“Still rubbish at fighting I see!” He goaded. I spat out the blood in my mouth and grimaced at the throb in my eye.

“You’re lucky we’re not duelling with wands or you’d be dead right now.”

“I don’t doubt that.” He accepted. I shifted to get up and he pinned me down again, his hand pushing my shoulder into the ground as his other grabbed my arm, where he shoved my sleeve up roughly. “Do you feel connected to the Dark Lord?” He asked me quietly. “Can he influence you through it?”

I squinted up at him and froze. It was there again, that strange twinkle in his eye as he gazed down at my Dark Mark, his lips parted. My eyes raked over his features and I felt the same strange fluttering in my pulse, my stomach tightening. His eyes met mine and he stared down at me imploringly.

“Do you regret it?” He whispered.

I swallowed thickly and pushed away the strange feelings, not liking them at all.

“What’s there to regret?” I sneered.

His stared at me for another moment before leaning back, releasing his hold on me. I sat up and quickly shoved down my sleeve, my eyes avoiding meeting his as he held out his hand for me. Ignoring it I climbed to my feet and dusted myself back off and concentrated on retrieving my broom, putting distance between us.

“I better head home.” Daniel sighed regretfully. “See you tomorrow?”

“Sure.” I mumbled, my back still to him before lowing my voice still. “I look forward to it.”

 

 


End file.
